An Ode to Solitude

The building now is nearly done
Each instance of steel
Every bit of stone
Joined and merged
Standing now by its own will
Newly finished, nearly complete
Awaiting a blessing from
Those many dully glowing points
Those Floating forms gathering
Orange on orange on orange
A Priest’s sonorous voice
The murmur now broken with song

Chorus sings and climbs
Step on step, level on level
Each step a spasm
Each level ecstasy
Upwards, upwards
Towards a starlit rooftop
Where candles cringe inadequately.
Ignore the fluorescent floor
With rigid form
That contains the true flesh,
Merged with structure
By which building is complete